"tormentor" poems
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am a captive
Taken from my home
Away from love and care
Now I live in fear
In the midst of the unknown
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
Oh! You have forgotten me, probably
I wouldn't blame you
I am just a girl, you thought
But I am Nigeria
And I could be just your girl
Yet you go to bed with both eyes closed
Because I am just a girl.
How do you sleep?
How do you find peace?
How do you laugh with satisfaction
And Find rest?
Knowing I am Leah Sharibu
And I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
Who is she? I can hear you ask.
Oh! You've forgotten?
I am that "Dapchi girl"
Kidnapped with her school mates
But they are free and I am not
They gained their lives back
Because they are what I am not
That's what some people thought
But I am not just "that Dapchi girl"
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
And I am a captive
I am in chains
I am in bonds
I am in pains
And I am not free
I am still missing
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am a Christian
That's what you said
But I am more than a Christian
I am a girl child
I am a woman
I am a daughter
I am a mother
And I am a wife
But I am more than all these
Yes! I am
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
Though you called me a Christian
Undoubtedly I am
Was that not why you left me behind?
Was that not why you've left me till now?
How callous? How unpatriotic?
You swore an oath to protect me
But you lied
You think calling me a Christian
Will clear your conscience
But you lie!
I am Nigeria
That's my identity
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I have been betrayed
By Deceivers parading themselves as leaders
By cowards parading themselves as heroes
By liers who embraces you with a dagger
I have been betrayed
By enemies camouflaged as friends
I thought they cared about me
But all they want is a piece of me.
So they don't care if I bleed
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am not missing
You can see me
But you've refused to free me
You've made me your slave
Everyday you **** me
Everyday you **** me
Everyday you brutalise me
Everyday you torment me
Despite the oath you swore to protect me
You have become my terror
My Kidnapper
My tormentor
My killer
My captor
My destroyer
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I can see, you don't care, who I am
You think I will just pass away
Like a shadow in the night
Another figure among the many lost
So you hope
But you lie
I am your fear
I am your shame
I am your story
Ugly but true
I am your cross
You must bear
I am your pain
And I won't go away
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
You can **** me
But I won't die
Though ****** with many swords
And bleeding on all sides
You will always hear my cries
Because I live on....
You can try to hide me
Like a woman's nature call
But I won't go away
I will be your nightmare
And walk the night in your sleep
I will be your nemesis
And follow you to your grave
I will be your infamy
Lay you bare for the world to see
I will be the truth
That topples your lies
And I pray that I will be your end
So you'd be no more
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria
Another night has come
And I pray for sleep
Not knowing if I will see the dawning of a new day
You expect me to be weak
To break down and fall
You expect me to be feeble and frail
But I won't
Everyday I see the sun
I will grow strong
Everyday I take a breath
I shall be agile able
Don't expect me to give up
For I shall win at last
I am Leah Sharibu
I am Nigeria.
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 7:13 PM UTC
I walk alone, out in the vastness
of space, heavens vaults, darkness
leavened by the brilliance of
unknown galaxies, and the far off
light of distant stars.
I am alone. lost in this eternal
field, of dark and light, black
and white, and all between,
shining, eternal light, to shine
forever, and bathe heaven, radiant,
in its undying light.
I wander, lost. Am I a spirit,
to wander so, sad and lonely,
cut off from the roiling, chaotic,
masses of humanity, and set to
wander, adrift in a brilliant sea,
vivid colors clashing always,
with the ever present void of
infinity?
But why, if I am here, are not others?
Where are they? Is space so vast, am
I to wander endlessly, lost in the void of
eternity, to be at last at peace, but to have
none others to share it with, none to join me
in my wanderings, none to acompany me
in my eternal journey, none to make it "our"
instead?
And what of Katerina? What of her? Is she here
wandering also, lost and alone even as I am,
enduring the silence of space, alone unto eternity
and beyond?
Or is she some other place, doomed to
eternal pain, locked away, to scream
unheard, save by her tormentor, some
thing of darkness, created from
the blackness of infinity, immortal,
set to guard the way to heavens bliss
the angels dying, falling?
Or is this all, this vast infinity, souls
doomed to wander forever, never
meeting, never crossing, alone
in solitude, forever and for all
the infinite centuries of eternity,
alone?
I wander here, lost for countless
years, stars vanish in heat and
light, whilst I wander, spirit
cast off, set adrift to wander,
centuries come and go,
while I stop to listen for
some imagined sound,
some human voice,
heard but unheard,
the darkness eats my mind,
while light replaces it,
with thoughts of
eternity, solitude and
bliss, together forever,
I and eternity, set to tread
alone through space, from now
until the end of Time.
I am alone, and I wonder,
perhaps, I am not
alone, perhaps I do not wander,
but instead set my feet to the path
appointed me. For perhaps those
stars were not always stars,
those nebulae not always so,
gaseous and vast, but instead were
souls like me, journeying only
to meet their ends as light and
gas and rocky spheres?
Perhaps, I shall know,
perhaps I shall see,
later amidst eternity.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
I am suffocating.
There are people with smiles and sweaters,
Asking me questions, judging me, pretending to care.
Sitting close around the table,
Trapped with no escape; pinned.
Looking my tormentor in the face, faking fine.
Taking hours to poke and stoke
The unyielding heap on my plate.
Bubbly mindless chatter -- external.
Dread and vile hatred -- internal.
My eyes betray my lie and show the truth I hide.
I am suffocating.
Under my own weight.
I am suffocating.
I am not better.
I am suffocating.
I am not thankful for stuffing.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Bear with me, I need to gather up the nerve,
to completely shower you with the love that you deserve.
You're thinking how to best throw the ball into a curve,
and I'm sinking, drowning in the words I still reserve.
We're sailing through the air
like rose petals from your hair,
lining the path to a room we can not enter.
We're beautifully torn
but the petals lack the thorn,
but still they ***** me and I bleed;
beauty claims the role of my tormentor.
Live with me, I'm not sure I can do it on my own,
keep me breathing, if you got an extra lung to loan.
I've been seeing stars and speckles in this twilight zone,
this struggle's repeating, look at how damaged I am,
and how quick I've grown.
We're sailing through the air
like rose petals ripped apart bare,
leading us to a door we could never open.
Our connection was born
but the petals lack the thorn,
the ****** and cuts come from all left unspoken.
The bouquet of your skin has dissolved
and the stems stretch further than we admit.
If nothing is started, it can't be resolved,
and I'm holding baby's breath; my stomach a deep pit.
I'm trying to solve a puzzle of invisibility
but my hands are broken and I lack the ability,
to decipher if the hues of grass in the pieces change shade,
if there's a side that's greener or just shadows cast on each blade.
We're sailing through the air
like rose petals without a care,
leading us into a trap we can't escape.
I tried my best to warn
that the petals still had a thorn,
it just seems now that it's a different shape.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:51 AM UTC
Times before I've looked at my own insides,
Delicately moved my own private sword across the flesh
And watched as I proved to myself I was still alive
Despite what I felt inside, I knew what I saw.
Don't ever call me weak.
Days before I've stared into the eyes of my tormentor
And pretended nothing was awry though I knew
I knew he'd prove my bravery false later that night
Don't ever call me weak.
Before, I've dropped pills in my hand, watching them cascade as a waterfall
And let them slide down my throat by the hundreds
Knowing there would be no coming back after I laid down
Waiting for my gentle release
Don't ever call me weak.
Times before I've walked the halls of school,
hearing others complain but knowing that was my happy place
Because "home" held such worse torments
Don't ever call me weak.
Days before I've medicated, taking in more than should have been possible
Knowing that at any moment I could be taken
But never stopping, only going back for more
Don't ever call me weak.
Before, I've watched with hawk-eyes every morsel that passed my lips
Going days without sustenance
But knowing it was worth it in the end
Because I had gained control over my life, finally.
Don't ever call me weak.
Don't you ever ******* call me weak.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
Acerbic antagonist alliterates agonizing accusations,
blasting ******* backbiter butting beautiful bombastic brainy blond bomb.
Cumulative cranial casualties cease caveman's cognitive coherence.
Doom digger derides Daddy's dangling dire dreary ****
Eclectic esoteric eccentric egotistical estranger;
Forthcoming fathoms fetch faithless fleeting father.
God given goblins gather gossamer ganglions;
Hell's hairy harlot harpies hover heeding Hyperion.
Ignatius imbibes irrevocably insisting,
"Jesus juggles justice's joy jarring jams."
Kindness kindles Kilimanjaro;
Malicious mountains melt, Mmm, morning marjoram.
Nothing negates Neanderthal ninnying.
Overt obsessions obfuscate original object of
purest passions, paltry past pinings,
quickly quieted, quelled,
resisted, relinquished, readily, ruefully, roundly
saturated, suffocated; surreptitiously silenced,
terribly torturing the thrashed tamed tormentor:
Ugly, ungrateful, unapologetic,
Vanity,
woefully wallowing, wailing, "Where's
Xanadu's
zeitgeist!?"
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
Wind in my face, skateboard wheels careening toward my destination with a fervent pace, so many groceries on my mind. My music blaring within my ears, filling the world with some gift wrapped three minute long purpose for being. No one else is in my world as I roll along the concrete sides, just enjoy the beauty of the moment. Then tragedy strikes like a viper in the dark, the spot in my mind that I manifested with wood and wheels and speed, all set to a musical soundtrack is shattered with a single blow. Not a pebble or unseen ledge but you. You come into vision, my thief of heart and soul, my dreamtime tormentor, my love that won't or can't subside. Trailing behind you of course is whatever you've replaced me with, some superior person in appearance or attitude. As I roll ever nearer, all can do is imagine our perfect conversation, you know the one... That one makes you fall in love with me again. but as our bodies close in on each other, almost until I could grab you and kiss you with the supreme passion I still feel, my imagination melts back into the part of the brain that keeps me sad and all I do is make a fake smile in your direction give a half hearted waive and continue passed, trying not look back at you and the person beside.
The store I find, has an excellent selection of wine and spirits. I pick one, douse myself in it's forgetful qualities and sleep without dreams. For once leaving you out of where you should no longer reside.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 4:47 AM UTC
brain dead and feeling mean
no object is unbreakable no action is unforeseen
panic attack
panic attack
panic attack
panic attack
can i shake this craze
my tormentor is myself no exit exists in this maze
panic attack
panic attack
panic attack
panic attack
(repeat)
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
Never truly gone
Always lurking
In the dark corners
Of my conscience
The unseen tormentor
Holds me hostage
In my own mind
I'm betrayed by my own self
Turn it off...
Turn it off...
Turn it off!
It spits words
Of hate and anger
Completely relentless
And vile -- there's no escape
Impossible to hold your ears
And not listen
When the insults are coming
From your own head
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
The room goes dark
Its time to play
Bewildered look on
Her face
Glowing by the sheen
From candles lit
Let the games begin
A dark voice says
Sweat builds on her brow
Like a tear drop
No sadness here
She awaits in anticipation
Her body is tense
Ropes, whips and chains
Hanging on the walls
Will we be used today
Takes hold of the ropes
Ties her to four posts
Attached to a bed
Dressed in silk clothes
So soft where she lies
He covers her eyes
Field of view obstructed
Heightened senses
Like a cave underwater
No life expected
Her ears come to life
Tingling with slow breathes
From his
cold mouth
Frozen lips
Icy tongue
She gasps for air
Her body bare
First time playing
He isn't easy
On her
A big smile forms
No serenity
Pleasure is torture
She wants more
Craves deep within
No whips
No chains
Nothing more than
Hot and Cold hands
His Toy
Moving across her body
Up and Down
Exploring her map
Over the hills
Through the valleys
From chest to navel
Mouth to Mouth
She licks her lips
In slow motions
Like a fan
oscillating
He tastes so good
So much emotion
The smell of leather
In the air
Takes a deep breathe as
He rubs the ice
Down the Hills
Is it too hot?
Is it too cold?
Her brain can't function
What is this?
is it Pleasure?
Is it pain?
She wants to learn
His tender touch
Is it love?
Is it hate?
Is it passion?
Confused reaction
Please stop!
No, keep going
What to do?
What to say?
She says nothing
She has escaped
Into the confines of
Her mind distressed
Obsessed
She is fully obliged
To Him
Mouth to lips
Passion fruit
Cant move
She comes undone
Her body contorts
Hair stands
Like trees in the forest
Goosebumps
What has happened?
She'll never tell
Forever changed
Her body fell
Into his arms
Her Dark Tormentor
JM 10/4/16
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
This heaviness, a stone in the chest,
a brooding passion flower,
fully at bloom, at moonlit night-
emits the distinct scent
of the tormentor of my heart,
an intoxicating accent it exudes--
which cages my mind.
Lust is its subtext.
Lungs are bottled up
with a mix of her pheromones,
signature perfume and the musky
scent of her sweat,
If a girl, with that intensity
gets in to the system, mixes in blood,
it's excruciating pain, is a bane,
and an insane ecstatic bliss, same time!
This isn't animal instinct, I know,
didn't she bare her mind though on the sly,
in words that has many facets, like a diamond?
No, still not sure, feels like an idiot,
(Wasn't she quite an artist,
playing with my heart?
But I am totally her's, can't help it,
from those moments,
which refuses to leave me in peace)
A longing that won't
let me take her off
from my mind's GPS.
Oh! now, shut both eyes and imagine
her undress in slow moves,
her lush, chiselled form, sends me
waves of fragance,
I am on the verge of collapse...
Then-
suddenly the phone rings,
she complains
a heaviness of heart,
***** thoughts that-
refuse to go to sleep.
"What would you do for this?"
she anxiously whispers,
"Hey, you are the only doctor,
I can lay my hands on,
to keep this malady at bay,
I badly need you near here,
**Is it true?
Am I falling in love with you?"**
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
Nightfall, through the door,
Bedsprawl, a ritualistic bore. Movements, they're oppressive. Actions, they're aggressive but his eyes, they're depressive.
Our synthetic connection and self-hatred is created with projection and misplaced indignation. There is no love in our heads, no lust in our beds. The fear of emasculation and eternal damnation hides all self-loathing with boasting and congruent clothing.
My Y was castrated. I'm a ****** from the womb. I'm Female, for unsated gloom my X is berated. I'm named a disgusting mutation as he projects his deveation onto the population.
When his shameful "pride" has diminished, I know our joyless formality has finished. He doesn't sit in the pew, yet he stands in the aisle, locked in a prison of denial. Tough and brisant, trying to be what he isn't. He walks out like a ragdoll, his steps aneurysmal with alcohol.
Beside myself, salty tears act as an anaesthetic, the antonym of emotion. An apathetic ocean.
I clutch my centre, the daunting tormentor. Impregnation is a STD, an infection, an infestation. Glue for our miseries to undo our joys. Merriment induced torment, fidelity induced gaiety
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
She sinks,
curled into a fetal position,
clutching the gold chain to her chest,
letting herself fall through the blue
Her eyes closed,
squeezed tightly shut,
so she doesn’t see the figure
pushing through the jeering crowd,
yelling at her tormentor,
flying through the air.
She doesn’t feel the ripple
as he dives into the water.
As her thoughts fade away,
bubbles slipping from her lips,
she feels arms wrapping around her
to carry her away.
Even as she’s gasping for breath,
she keeps her eyes shut
as she’s carried out of the blue.
And it’s only when she’s placed upon
a surface that is warm and soft
rather than hard and unforgiving
That she finally opens her eyes
to greet her savior.
She shivers, looking into eyes
that are far too warm to be human
But they are set in a human face
that shows only genuine concern,
with a lips that part to send a question into her consciousness:
“Are you okay?”
She just stares at him,
and suddenly starts to cry
Because she never knew
that anyone could ever care.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 9:15 PM UTC
Arresting artificial bloom from a make believe garden,
Oh! magalomaniacal face of ill gotten glamour,
ribald queen of the kitsch, with endless variety in store,
age, cannot wither your, unmistakable garish taste-
or sadistic delights, each you do organize is outrageous,
than the one before, no doubt, how do you manage?
I'll forget all those in an instance, but, that kiss, oh! that,
the one you gifted, to show you were pleased utmost,
stealthily away from the eyeshot of your posse of lovers,
other cannibals and party animals, under the darkened staircase,
was the last godforsaken straw;
what a poor camel can do? if you so desire,
beggars, never were the choosers, you'd tell yourself,
in a self congratulatory note,
that much I am aware, my dear tormentor!
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 10:36 AM UTC
A darkness that creeps in from all sides. No light can break through the shadows well. A valley of sand and loss, never has any king won a victory in these lands. Here in this plain no flower has grown for the water is hot and black like the sludge of a fools mind. No roads have ever been beaten, none of the twisted skyscrapers of thorns have been cut for no one wishes th settle here in this land of nothingness. The very air is thick with ache and longing for a time that never came to pass. Fear grips this world, fears that all have felt that of loss and the future but in this sphere there is fear that is like that of a nightmare, terrifying but only to the dreamer who is all but trapped in the dark cage of there own destruction. Waking, sleeping and nothing all these are ruled by this overlord, a twisted backwards and evil creation. Spawned from that which is supposed to fight with you, love you and drive you but its all went wrong and your greatest support sprang into your most cruel tormentor. But as he who knows first hand of beasts and woe spoke the words one must hear to shatter these walls and traps of despair
first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.
Our world is your world so bring light to a world with no memory of light, give as well as take and let it all form into a truth that will grow green and powerful. Hope will not be a need anymore for in your hand and heart you can hold the greats strength one that forms only in the correct conditions and at just the right time. Rare it is to win perfection and only in love can one truly gain happiness from the perfection they have one. There is only a few, maybe even one of these loves one will gain that will reach perfection and when you see someone who cast light onto you cast it back and take it in, let it become you, let your self take it in and let your self bee taken in and soon one thing will form, perfection; sweet unbreakable perfect love. No shadow will ever fall upon any one who becomes enlightened enough and lucky enough to find this love. Glad you will be when you feel this because no one can say they do not wish for this and no one who has it or felt it will ever say they don't want it or never did. Me, you, him, her, no body and everything seeks this rare love and few are lucky enough and gain it but for all the pain one will ever feel or fight through it will always be worth it if it is right, and i know what right feels like i feel it everyday thanks to her, my perfection, my love. So smile and wipe away your world of darkness, sand and pain and plant a garden that will grow with the sweetest of things.
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 2:30 AM UTC
Heathcliff my love,
Had I known you at times before
Before the glory days of your tormentor
Perhaps your future would not be so bleak.
Heathcliff my love,
If you had not been so hated
Your misery and doom lain fated
Your life might have reached its peak.
Heathcliff my love
Were you not bruised and beaten?
Were you not shamed without reason?
Until you had no cause to be weak.
Heathcliff my love
Once you have broken free
With your rage contained barely
Will you find the revenge you seek?
Heathcliff my love
When terror is six feet below ground
And all that remains is offspring dumbfound
Will equivalent wind render his oblique?
Heathcliff my love
The one you detested you have become
And young son’s potential left unsung
Do you finally see the havoc you wreak?
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 7:36 AM UTC
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares,
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood
And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade
Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm
To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here
Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men
And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse
Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth,
But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt
Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades
Are still the abodes of gladness; the thick roof
Of green and stirring branches is alive
And musical with birds, that sing and sport
In wantonness of spirit; while below
The squirrel, with raised paws and form *****
Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade
Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam
That waked them into life. Even the green trees
Partake the deep contentment; as they bend
To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky
Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene.
Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy
Existence, than the winged plunderer
That ***** its sweets. The massy rocks themselves,
And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees
That lead from knoll to knoll a causey rude
Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots,
With all their earth upon them, twisting high,
Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet
Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed
Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks,
Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice
In its own being. Softly tread the marge,
Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren
That dips her bill in water. The cool wind,
That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee,
Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass
Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.
1.6k
One... two... three... four...
turn
You can see the spot on her floor,
Where her blue-green carpet is worn
Wishing she could walk out the door
Forget how bad her heart has been torn
One, two, three, four
turn
She has music blaring
Supposed to keep her from losing her mind
Supposed to keep her from caring
If only her tormentor weren't so kind
One two three four
turn
He's still unaware of his slight
She's pacing, reciting Poe in her head
He's unaware of her pain every night
She's wishing her heart was dead
Onetwothreefour
turn
Her fingers twine through her hair
Berating herself for thinking of him
She hears a few strands tear
But paces on, ignoring them
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 9:15 AM UTC
a father is suppose to be a child’s first
hero
protector
guider
and mentor
however for me my father was my first
tormentor
narcissist
and the monster that hid under my bed
with a bottle to keep him company
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 2:29 AM UTC
Bruised and broken
Yet still standing.
Throw one more punch,
You are on your knees again.
Taking a beating,
But still the fight goes on.
Fight for Truth.
Fight for Beauty.
Fight for Future.
The tormentor will lose;
Fight for You.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
my tormentor
is also known to be
the one who holds me
the one who brightens my smile
faster than he can drive a mile
but with this he had
drawn me to the dark and the bad
making him what ruined me so
leading me to this point with nothing else to do
but hide all emotion and go with what is told
with this it was oh-so bold
that he was my tormentor
that dragged me to and fro
leading me to the dark
holding my hand
leading me deeper
and deeper
into pure nothingness
(a.b)
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
What is indigo?
Indigo is...
A calm night sky when all I see is red,
A late night tormentor taking sleep,
A nice friend with twinkling eyes,
A demon turning to the other side
fighting off the monsters
keeping me from the silver glistening red.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
cinderella layed in a dark and cold prison. awaiting her husband, her tormentor, and her captures return, tears rapidly falling down her rosie red cheeks as she looked at her broken arm. ¨
why would you run away from me like that? now look at you... your arm is broken.¨ she remembered him shouting. ¨you're pathetic.¨ staring at the rusty bars she began to feel hopeless. on the outside she had been silently broken but on the inside she felt as if she were screaming. screaming from the pain, screaming from the betrayal and deceit. screaming because what she had believed to be her dream come true had become nothing but a complete and absolute nightmare. screaming because she had fallen in love with a fairytale. a lie, a predator, a munipulator, a monster. how could i let myself fall in love with someone so incredibly evil? she thought. maybe i wanted to believe in him. maybe i felt as if i needed too. to believe in someone or something. to be rescued. i think that he sinced that about me. that i wanted to be saved by someone or something so he descised himself as my savior.. and i believed in him. and now here i am. maybe he was right, maybe i was pathetic and naive. maybe i just hoped that i had finaly found what i had been waiting so long for and that all of my years of crushing lonliness and longing for something more had finaly been over. but it was all a lie. and now im going to have to find a way to save myself.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
I'm haunted by ghosts.
Screaming profanities,
Shattering the barriers of solitude.
Banshees cursing me,
Leading them to the depths,
Of the hell I created.
The blackened pit,
I the tormentor.
Where my eyes pierce
Sweetest fantasy, corrupting innocence.
Filling hearts with dread.
Dreams turned into night mares.
Stampeding insanity,
Like merry-go-rounds
Drilling painful truths into
The painted fictions of hope
That we dream of as children.
I am the madness your heart craves.
And the poison that kills you.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 10:24 PM UTC
I stare into your sightless scars as blood, like pain, comes raining down
And try to understand the reasons you have thrown yourself away
Mistakes befall us all, and you can't say that it was all your fault
Because a cruel ******* kept you subject unto fear and pain
And oh, I wish that I could take away from you those years and scars
And take upon myself the task of causing your tormentor pain
But some things just cannot be done when miles keep us separated
Words are all there are to offer and it's driving me insane
I turn my tear-streamed face into the maddened bliss of red descending
Letting crimson flows dissolve the salty stains of agony
Wishing I could find a way to say that you've been long deserving
So much more than you have come to let yourself believe
And there I see, above it all, a heart so full of grief and doubt
Consumed with so much hate for self, forgiveness cannot penetrate
Memories that every day betray and cast their chains of slavery
Keeping your heart prisoner, allowing thoughts to devastate
I reach out with my very soul, embracing your imprisoned heart
And summon all the love that one can possibly command
Concentrating every effort on the breaking of the chains
So you will not deceive yourself, and let yourself be ******
And oh, the woeful chorus of the angels who are now descending
Circling about you as I try to break the chains that bind
There I see the crimson rain is falling from the eyes of heaven
As the efforts of those very angels and my own combine
They sing of sweet forgiveness, and of letting go of pain unending
I wrap your heart more tightly in my love for you, both heart and soul
Angels whisper, "Oh dear heart, we're doing all that we can do.
It's up to you to break the chains and let your pain and self-hate go."
I shout above the choir, "Can't you see that you are loved?"
Praying you will understand that you have always had the key
Let it go, this pain and hate which you have fashioned as your cell
I can't lose you, my Angel. Can't you see you are the heart of me?
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC